


Revival

by Missy



Category: Gone With the Wind, Gone With the Wind - Margaret Mitchell
Genre: Black Comedy, Community: zombi_fic_ation, Dark Comedy, Ensemble Cast, Gen, Horror, Resurrection, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 21:31:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melanie's resurrection is a miracle, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revival

**Author's Note:**

> Written for zom-bi-fic-ation in '13, prompt: 159. Gone with the Wind -- Scarlett, Melanie, Ashley, any -- A few hours after the good doctor pronounced Miss Melanie dead, she 'just woke up.' She's not quite herself... and not nearly as sweet and forgiving as she used to be.

It was a miracle.

Scarlett refused to characterize it as anything less. They had gone into an absolute tear over poor Melly’s expiration - even gentle Ashley had drunken himself into a stupor over the loss of his wife, never mind the disrepair little Beau had gone through. 

So when they gathered to put poor Mrs Wilkes in the cold ground at Twelve Oaks, the entire assembly was quite stunned when the deceased, arrayed in her finest white organdy gown, promptly sat up in her casket mid-service, proclaiming her hunger and a desire to see her son. To have her back so immediately; good as new, though with a strange vacancy in her eyes - was a blessing from the saints.

After she pinched the color back into her cheeks, Scarlett went to church that day for the first time in years.

Melly didn’t seem to mind Scarlett’s constant harping about the miraculous nature of her recovery, nor did she complain about Ashley’s endless blunder bussing about the joy her resurrection had brought him. Melly didn’t seem to care for much of what the earthly word could offer, anyway. She did take a strange joy…and in spending time with the neighborhood delivery men. Funny how some of them would disappear after having a good rest and meal with Mrs Melly, Beau and Ashley. 

Scarlett didn’t have time to concentrate on the blandishments of the rest of the county; she had mill to run and Rhett was off on another of his alcoholic tears, forgetting entirely the peace they had found in the wake of Melanie’s return. 

*** 

Scarlett didn’t figure it all out until she saw Melanie kneeling over the laundryman’s body, shoveling bloody fistfuls of his slimy brain into her open mouth.

But when he saw Scarlett’ blanched face she simply smiled, her perfect white hands stretching for miles over the green grass, around Scarlett’s ivory skin.

The battle was vicious but brief; never let it be said that Scarlet O’Hara surrendered easily. But Melanie was a far dirtier fighter in death - soon she had Scarlet locked and braced against her bosom: her educated, saintly bosom, that had born so very many slights. 

“Hush, sugar.” She strummed the chord of Scarlet’s neck with her perfect, sharp teeth. “Join me and we’ll rule the world – oh, I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Hellfire,” she sneered, her fingers itching toward the spade lying in tantalizing closeness to her heel. 

Then, devastatingly, seductively, came Melaine’s whisper. “I’ll give you Bonnie.”

The idea, the very notion was enough. Scarlett closed her eyes, gasping softly, giving in. 

*** 

The men were easy enough to convince afterward, though Ashley had to be convinced through subterfuge. Then the practicality of procuring bodies becomes an issue, and the mills – always a ready source of cash- now becomes an easy source of flesh. The men were always going to be the weaker ones, as Melly had always known.

It was a beautiful life; one that become even more lovely after the ‘rediscovery’ of Bonnie Blue Belle, who had been found in France, kidnapped by someone seeking a ransom who had replaced the child with an urchin, a less accomplished rider who had died in her stead a year ago. If her gaze seemed a little off, and if she smelled slightly of rotting meat, it was just the shock, nothing more. Her growling at the servant’s heels and the mailman was explained tersely away as shock from her long kidnapping. 

It was enough. 

Scarlett learned that urchins searching for similar hand-outs made excellent meatloaf.

 

*** 

No one asked Mrs. Wilkes if she was feeling poorly anymore – her early death became an urban legend, a rumor. She spent a lot of time working on her roses. They’re the prettiest in the county – blue ribbon winners. People from miles around are amazed by how rich and sweet-smelling the buds were.

She said that the secret was her rich, hand-cultivated soil.

Miss Scarlett calmed down, too. Why, she was a positive lady, leading her garden club and reading from the Bible, constantly nibbling on dried hunks of beef as she went. It sparked quite the trend among her peers, and the women of Atlanta could often be seen eating tidbits of meat, though not with the strange ravaging hunger Missus Butler often displayed. 

Ashley and Rhett, both of them devoted in an….intense…way to both women, continued their affairs in the business world, with Rhett’s firm guidance. They soon formed a crucial cornerstones of Atlanta society and were often seen at the best and most fashionable balls and cotillions in the county. All who lived in their orbits were so grateful for the duel miracles of Bonnie and Melanie’s resurrections that they didn’t bother to ask questions.

And if you come to their dinner parties and you notice the glint in dear old mammy’s eyes, or the dullness of mister Butler’s expression, or even the mildewed-mothball scent of Missus Scarlett’s hair that rosewater could never wash away, why you’re just imagining it. The two women still share a wicked little smile now and again, the blood residue of their special steaks tinting their lips the exact same shade of ruby as the claret pooled their fine china teacups.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction uses character from **Gone with the Wind** , all of whom are the property of the **Estate of Margaret Mitchell**. No money was gained from the writing of this fanfiction and all are used under the strictures of of the Berne Convention.


End file.
